


Invitations

by SourWolf



Series: Lessons Learned [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-03
Updated: 2012-04-03
Packaged: 2017-11-02 23:18:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/374470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SourWolf/pseuds/SourWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles arranged a secret Santa event at Lydia's to make her feel better after getting out of the hospital. Derek decides to go and discovers that Allison may actually be more than just a Hunter's daughter. Stiles gets the most presents, Danny discovers the truth about Miguel and Jackson and Lydia act like themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Invitations

**Author's Note:**

> Just so my readers are aware, I'm not overlooking the fact that Jackson demands the bite. I'm just pushing it farther back in time until the right situation arises.
> 
> I also hope that this doesn't seem rushed. I was writing it before I started studying for an exam. If it does, I apologize and hope you'll keep coming back for more anyway.

I couldn’t believe I decided to give in to Stiles. I actually did everything he asked too. In my passenger seat sat a couple hot appetizers and two presents. Stiles and Scott had both said that I just needed to bring something for Allison, but it didn’t seem right to let Stiles’ gift go unanswered.

I sat in my car outside of Lydia Martin’s house, parked at the curb across the street. I could already smell that Allison was the only one there with Lydia. I wasn’t even early, and those two idiots couldn’t be there so I wouldn’t be stuck with an Argent and a girl that had been brutalized by my late uncle? Make that two Argents. 

Allison’s father sat in his red Tahoe, his sharp green eyes already trained on me. I gathered the food and gifts and climbed out of the car, walking towards Lydia’s house. Chris Argent followed, getting out of his car, his Desert Eagle at his side. 

“Derek. Why don’t we have a little talk?” He asked with a smile, his hand tightening around his gun.

My eyes flashed red in warning. “About what? How your sister tried to take out my entire family and almost succeeded? Or the fact that even if you don’t consider us ‘people’ there were innocent humans in that house when she decided it was time to kill us off?” I growled lowly in return.

Chris held his hands up, smiling calmly at me. That smile was one of the least apologetic things I had ever seen and it made the wolf in me ache to watch his intestines spill out onto the pavement. Sadly, he was one of the only of their kind that believed in the supposed morals they upheld. If I took him out, there would be none that would stop the flood of violence hurting innocent lives.

“I just said I wanted to talk.” He cooed softly, the tone of his voice that same one he would have given Allison. That stupid, gentle fatherly chastising that said ‘I’m disappointed’ more than ‘you’re in trouble now.’ His emotions were hard to read. It wasn’t hate exactly, but he didn’t like me being around, especially not in the same place as his daughter.

I was about to point out that I happened to be the one that took care of his werewolf problem and even avenged his murderous sister, even if unintentionally, when Allison came out of the house and emptied my left arm. She must have wanted to make her dad mad about something because she got up onto her toes and kissed my cheek.

“Dad. You said you would stay in the car, remember?” She said, leaning against me as Lydia came out, her cherry red lipstick fresh and glossy as she grinned at Chris Argent.

“Hi, Mr. Argent. You’re looking good today. Would you like to come in for a drink?” She asked with a grin, sliding her hands over her hips slowly and drawing attention to the skirt that looked like it should have been on a candy striper or a bobby soxer. Lydia made it work, though, and he could see why Stiles found her so enticing.

“Lydia, Dad has paperwork he needs to finish. Come help Derek.” Allison replied, grinning at her father.

He let out a guttural noise and shook his head. “Allison, I think its time to go home. I didn’t realize that he would be here.” Chris answered with a frown. The way he spoke of me like I was a ravenous animal with no sense of humanity made me want to unleash and be just that. Just long enough to take care of the problem. 

Lydia slid a hand over my bicep, touching the muscle with a surge of pheromones. I could tell she was attracted to me, but there was something different about her. It was like she knew what she was doing, all the way down to the scents she let off to signal others. Allison grinned at her father and pulled me inside, closing the door behind us. She laughed and fell onto the couch, crossing her arms behind her head.

“Did you see his face? I thought he was going to run you over when I kissed you on the cheek.” She said happily, causing me to roll my eyes.

“You’re going to start a war.” I growled at the girl, who instantly frowned and put her hands over her eyes.

“Oh my god. I’m an idiot.” She groaned and Lydia rolled her eyes at both of us.

“Your dad, as sexy with a gun as he is, isn’t going to start a fight because his daughter kissed this villainously handsome hunk on the cheek. And you. Mister Dark and Broody. What did you bring us to eat? I’ve been having nothing but salads since I got home from the hospital. I could use some real food before I go back to salads. The holidays are terrible for you, you know.” She said, leading me into the kitchen so that we could get rid of the restaurant packaging and make it look more legitimate. I could only assume that Allison explained everything that happened to her when she woke up after the attack.

I looked over my should as I held out a plastic container of artichoke dip while Lydia spooned it into a glass bowl and spread the pita chips over a platter. Allison stood in the doorway chewing on her lower lip softly.

“I’m sorry, Derek. I know it wasn’t smart of me to wave you in my dad’s face like that. I’ll talk to him on the ride home, okay? I was just mad at him. Just don’t take it out on Scott. He needs you.” She said, crossing her arms over her chest cautiously.

I gave a nod. “I could tell. Don’t worry about it. You could just be another Scott.” I excused her gruffly, turning back to Lydia as she loaded my arms down with platters to carry back into the living room. When did I become a teenage girl’s beast of burden again?

The brunette girl was steadily beginning to relax as she realized that maybe what she did wasn’t as stupid as she initially thought, that maybe it was just her being a teenage girl angry at her father. It was still by no means a smart move, but she was just a teenager and teenagers do stupid things sometimes. I felt pretty confident that Lydia was right about the Argent man not starting a fight over what his daughter had done.

“He’s outside, you know.” I told Allison as I set the platters down only to watch them be rearranged by Lydia, who took special care to explain how the arrangement of colors was important in promoting a healthy appetite and how positively Jackson would see it without ever noticing that he considered it.

A couple seconds later, the doorbell rang and Allison was the one to open it. She was immediately engulfed in Scott’s arms and kissed eagerly. Stiles slapped his friend on the shoulder to get his attention. When it didn’t work, he started tapping the beta on the shoulder repeatedly and saying his name, but it still didn’t have an effect on the couple.

A growl ripped through my throat and I narrowed my eyes at Scott. “If you don’t answer him, I’m going to end up ripping both of your tongues out.”

Scott broke the kiss, smiling at Allison and saying hey before throwing a glare in my direction. “You could say hi before you start barking orders to people.”

Stiles threw his hands up at the fact that Scott was still completely ignoring him. “SCOTT!” He said shrilly, and I had to take a step back to remain in a bearable range of Stiles’ impossible mixture of emotions. It seemed like excitement and fear were always present in that haze he gave off.

“What?” Scott asked, finally giving Stiles his attention.

“Just thought I should point out that Derek, you know, actually came. Its like a family reunion. Where’s the hugging and the tears and you two admitting that you really love each other?” Stiles joked with a grin.

Scott groaned and rolled his eyes, giving Stiles no response as he gave the soda and cups to Lydia. Stiles walked up to me and gave me some of the containers of food he brought before he led me into the kitchen behind Lydia.

“Hey, Lydia.” Stiles said when we were all in the kitchen with a bashful grin on his lips as his fingers raised to wave at the girl with strawberry blond hair.

“Hi, Stiles. You look nice, but I wish you wouldn’t wear that awful plaid. Green and red and blue? What were you thinking? You should just take that off. You’d look much better in just your jacket and that t-shirt.” The girl said, tugging on the unbuttoned shirt she was ridiculing speculatively.

Stiles let out a squeak, staring helplessly down at the popular girl. He shed his jacket and I was hit with a wave of attraction and a spark of lust coming off the teenager as he took off the shirt for Lydia. She grinned and nodded, patting the slender boy’s chest lightly before she walked towards the living room. Lydia stopped at me and another wave of attraction came off of her.

“Think you and Stiles can handle putting that food on something nice?” She asked with a grin, her red fingernails sliding along the zipper of my jacket until she reached the unbuttoned collar of my Henley. Her fingers wandered over the fabric, just barely touching my skin.

I gave a short sound of affirmation and moved away from her to help Stiles. I could feel her pouting at my back as I started to unveil the desserts Stiles made for the occasion. Stiles stared after Lydia and let out a faint whine in the back of his throat. Another human probably would have missed it completely, but it was enough to give Stiles my attention.

He caught my curious gaze and shook his head. “Nothing. It’s nothing.” He said in exasperation as he spread out cookies neatly on a plate. He stopped, picking up a cookie and biting into it. His eyes shifted to the living room where Lydia was chatting with Allison who was sitting in Scott’s lap. “You know what?” He said softly as he chewed the cookie. Apparently he never learned that little lesson about not talking with your mouth full. “It’s not nothing. It’s definitely not nothing. It’s a thing. It’s a huge thing. And it’s so uncool.”

“You like her.” I stated the obvious, hoping that if he got it out it would go away and I wouldn’t have be dealing with it all night.

“Yeah, I like her. How could I not? Look at her. She’s perfect. She’s pretty. She’s super smart. She totally deserves better than Jackson freaking Whittemore.” Stiles said, slamming cookies around in his annoyance while I filled a plate with gooey brownies covered with a cheesecake topping. Stiles really must have been trying to impress with these desserts. They looked good.

Stiles pushed the plate of cookies aside and let out something that I think was supposed to be a growl. The strange thing was that I could actually breathe. Stiles emotions were oddly enough reduced to a pretty simple mixture of irritation and sadness. I took the plate, pulling out the cookies that Stiles had carelessly broken in his little fit.  
“She made out with Scott, is probably going to take Jackson back because of course he’ll come crawling back to her, and now she’s freaking undressing you with her eyes. Yet I confess my feelings to her and all I get is some damn fashion advice.” He hissed before throwing the button-up he’d taken off for the girl into the trashcan.  
“Move on. How much would you two really have in common anyway? Scott could use you around if he isn’t going to listen to me.” I offered bluntly, finishing the work that Stiles and I had set out to finish.

Stiles threw his hands up again and glared at me. “Great. I get to live a life of being a third wheel forever because my best friend got turned into a werewolf by your crazy uncle – no offense, please don’t kill me. I would much rather not be stuck waiting around in my room for the occasions when something supernatural happens pressing enough for him to pull his face off of Allison’s and actually give a crap about what his loser friend is doing. And by the way, in case you forgot, that girlfriend his face is glued to happens to be a Hunter’s daughter with super-crazy-awesome heroine-level archery skills.” He whisper-yelled at me. He walked back towards the table I was leaning over and flopped into a chair. He let out another soft whine and put his head into his hands, rubbing at his buzzed hair. “He’s not going to need me for much longer.”

“You’re his best friend. Just because he’s too stupid to take his eyes off Allison for a few seconds doesn’t mean he’s going to forget you. Besides, he’d be dead without you. Things with him and Allison will calm down. No one stays like that forever.” I replied, getting tired of the listening to Stiles beat himself up.

“But, Derek, it’s puppy love. Do I really have to resort to a dog joke to get my point across?” He whined, looking up at me. I growled and gripped Stiles’ jacket, pulling him back to his feet. He swung around in my grasp, grabbing onto my wrist and staring at me. The face he made was a pitiful combination of fear and self-hatred that read something along the lines of ‘I’m going to crap myself and Lydia Martin will never be able to take me seriously.’ 

“Stiles, shut up and take these into the living room.” I ordered, watching him carry the plates out of the kitchen with an annoyed shake of my head. I popped a broken cookie into my mouth, surprised at just how good it tasted. Where had Stiles learned to cook like this?

When I looked up again, he was in the doorway grinning at me. “I know. They’re good right? Mom and I used to make them every Christmas. She’d always let me help make the batter. I’ve made them every year.” He said, taking one of the broken cookies for himself.

Scott and Allison came into the kitchen to get something to drink. While Allison poured a drink, Scott gave me a thankful look before he punched Stiles in the shoulder. “You think too much.”

Stiles cried out, grabbing his shoulder and leaning against the wall as he let out a strained breath. “Oh, holy mother… Freaking human here, dude! Think you could try to not break my very human bones that won’t heal in a day if you snap them with your stupid werewolf strength.” He complained, glaring at his friend.

Scott grinned at Stiles, apparently taking the complaint as a compliment about his strength. He turned around to pour himself a drink, getting a hard kick to his behind from Stiles. Scott turned around and growled, causing Stiles to cringe against the wall. I moved in between them, pushing the last plate of sweets into Stiles’ hands and nodding towards the living room. He gladly took the instruction and disappeared complaining about werewolves and their super hearing before he started trying to strike up conversation with Lydia who sounded like she was busy messing with her phone.

Scott growled at me, but I just gave him a glare.

“You should be a little nicer to him. He obviously needs you right now.” I told Scott, watching as Allison joined him.

Scott growled at me, getting more and more riled up. “Like you’re one to talk. I’m not the one that’s slammed his head into his steering wheel after he was willing to skip his first game on first line to help find the alpha.”

Allison wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed his cheek softly, which did calm him down some. It was no wonder Stiles was so adamantly in favor of Scott being with her even though I was against it now that I had seen this first hand. “Hey. He’s just trying to help. He’s not the bad guy.”

Scott just let out a sigh and a pulled Allison into the living room away from me while she gave me a smile.

I stood in the kitchen alone for a few moments, enjoying the quiet. I rubbed at the bridge of my nose and shut my eyes as I attempted to will the headache that was this new life, my living Hell, away. It was beginning to look good, almost as though they had forgotten about me, when Stiles poked his head into the kitchen.

“Hey, I know you’re rocking the whole ‘I’m a lone wolf’ thing, but you going to join the fun or what?” He asked, smiling at me before he moved into the kitchen. Stiles handed me a solo cup of sprite and tugged my shoulder towards the living room.

I followed Stiles to the others and took a seat in a chair away from the others. Lydia situated herself in my lap, leaving Stiles with a frown. “So, you’re older, tortured, and drive a nice car. If I wasn’t so sure that you were also broken beyond repair, I think I’d be in love.” Lydia said with a smile, twirling a tress of red-tinged sunlight around a finger.

Stiles let out a squeak as he watched the whole thing, but my attention was turned outside where a Porsche’s doors opened and closed.

“Who drives a Camaro around here?” Danny’s voice came to my ears. Apparently he had yet to find out anything more about me. Jackson didn’t answer him, but I feel the fear gripping his heart already as he prayed I wouldn’t be on the other side of the door.

Without knocking, Jackson opened the door and let himself into the house. His eyes instantly narrowed when he saw Lydia in my lap. He walked up to us and pulled the girl off of me. I was grateful to have her off of me. I still had that nagging feeling that she was too aware of what she was doing and it left me uncomfortable. She was young and she was pretty, but I wasn’t interested. I already learned the lesson of acting on physical attraction, though the wolf liked the idea of claiming the girl. After all, she was a potential mate that was at the peak of reproductive ability.

Jackson glared down at Lydia, trying his hardest to hide his fear of me by not recognizing my presence.

“Oh, Stiles, you brought your cousin.” Danny said, throwing a smile in my direction.

Again, I realized that my life had become a Tartarus of teenage hormones, a circle of Hell where the air was choked by a constant flow of pheromone, I was drowned by an insurmountable flood of emotions, and given whiplash by the constant mood swings. 

Jackson turned on Danny then, his voice dripping acid. “Cousin? What are you talking about?”

Danny flinched back, surprised and confused by Jackson’s reaction to him. “Calm down, Jackson. You look like that vein in your forehead’s about to give.”

Jackson’s hand went to his forehead and Danny smiled, taking Jackson’s shoulders and squeezing them lightly. “I’m kidding. You just needed to chill out. I was talking about him. The only guy in the room that doesn’t like he goes to Beacon Hills High. It’s Stiles’ cousin Miguel.”

Jackson relaxed a little with Danny’s help and rubbed his eyes. “Danny. That’s Derek Hale. The guy that was plastered all over town on wanted posters. He and Stiles aren’t related. They didn’t even know each other existed until Scott got first line.”

“Not true!” Stiles objected, quieting down as he got a glare from Jackson and me and curious glances from everyone else.

Danny’s confused stare shifted quickly from Stiles to me. “You wore his clothes and you barely even knew him?” 

My eyebrows shot up at the fact that he chose that detail to focus on. He could have chosen the fact that I had been wanted for the murder of several different people, or the fact that I had successfully evaded the law, or the fact that while I was wanted I had been introduced to him as Stiles’ cousin under the roof of the town’s sheriff. Yet instead, it was just that I had pulled on several of Stiles’ shirts before giving up after accepting that I would never find anything of Stiles’ that could ever fit me.

“I think I did more damage to his shirts than they could possibly do to me.” I replied with a little shrug.

Danny wrinkled his nose and shrugged. “I guess so. I hope that orange and blue thing you tried on wound up in the trash.”

Stiles let out a groan, flopping back on the sofa so hard he slapped himself in the face. “I think I have pretty good fashion sense, thank you very much.”

Allison smiled and squeezed Stiles’ wrist before rubbing it reassuringly. “Don’t worry. Everyone has a few things in their closet that just don’t look good. I think you always look nice.”

Jackson rolled his eyes at the fact that the focus had suddenly shifted to Stiles. He gripped Lydia’s shoulder and pulled her away from me. “He’s dangerous. What are you doing?”

“As I recall, you dumped me, Jackson Whittemore. You’ve been a jerk and a child for weeks now. What makes you think that I can’t take care of myself?” Lydia said defensively, Stiles applauding the girl every step of the way.

Jackson pointed a manicured finger at Stiles threateningly. “Shut up. We all know you had something to do with bringing a criminal into Lydia’s house.” He accused Stiles before looking at Lydia again. “Take care of yourself? Have you forgotten the fact that you wandered out onto the football field alone and got attacked, no thanks to your useless little date over there, and ended up in the hospital?”

Lydia looked absolutely offended at Jackson’s words. I was getting tired of his bratty attitude so I got to my feet, my eyes locked on the blond. The action of standing up alone was enough to send the human co-captain of the lacrosse team stumbling backwards in fear. Danny was solely responsible for keeping his friend on his feet, and even that did little good because Jackson pulled away and stood against a wall, rubbing the back of his neck as though it was hurting him. Maybe he was just afraid it was about to happen again.

Lydia gave an ephemeral pout, and I caught the smallest wave of disappointment and longing. My gaze turned to Stiles, who was watching Lydia and me curiously. I knew that if anyone would catch that slight flash of emotion, it would be him. And I don’t think that I was disappointed. He waved me on, sitting hopelessly back in his seat. He was all too aware of Lydia’s desire for Jackson. The girl standing in front of me turned to give me a smile, probably planning on hugging to make Jackson jealous or something to that effect. She never got the chance.

I pinned Jackson against the wall, glaring at him. I turned his head and whispered into his ear where I knew that no one but Scott would be able to hear me. “I suggest you shut your mouth. You’ve wanted the bite for how long now? Peter didn’t want to give you the bite because you were weak, hopeless, and sniveling even now while you’re at your peak. That’s why he wanted me to kill you. You knew too much and were entirely too useless to keep around even as an omega. You should be thanking Scott for protecting you and me for not finishing you when I had the chance, but if you keep making me want to change my mind, I just might.”

Jackson pulled away from me, letting out a huff. He took the chair that I had been sitting in defiantly and pulled Lydia down with him, much to her delight. I ceded that to him and ended up next to Stiles while Danny sat next to Scott and Allison. Everyone ate and continued talking. Jackson’s outburst was ultimately left behind and he warmed back up to the group as a whole. It was an interesting comparison for Lydia to call him a child. It was exactly how it seemed: he was a scared little boy wanting direction and acceptance getting scolded for his outbursts by me, the impatient adult forced to deal with a child that wasn’t his own. And, sure enough, once his scolding was finished, everyone was willing to move on as though getting threatened at by the authority was the most natural and everyday event that could happen. The most concerning part of that picture was that I was somehow the authority. In the same way that everyone embraced Jackson after he had been chastised, so did they silently leave my place open for me as though me slamming Jackson into a wall and threatening his life was no different than any threat a real parent would have given their child.

I was starting to hate this. A pity invite to a party where I was already expected to give Allison a present was one thing. Becoming den mother to a group of idiotic teenagers was another thing entirely.

Conversation moved to how good Lydia looked for having been hospitalized not too long ago, and I drifted away as the conversation continued.

“Derek. Derek, sweetie, come here, would you?” My mother’s voice called from the kitchen. Laura smiled at me and waved me away, happy to stop where we were in our game of Egyptian War since my stack of cards was twice the size of hers.

I went into the kitchen where my mother and a friend of hers were working on making food for the gathering. I was still young, at that age where I wanted to be recognized as an adult even though I still didn’t have all the faculties of one.

“Hey, Derek. We were working on making the cheesecake filling for those bars your aunt loves, but we can’t for the life of us pick up this bowl. Think you could help us out?” My mother’s friend said with a warm smile.

I nodded, knowing that I was strong enough to pick it up with ease, even full. It didn’t occur to me at the time that my mother should have been able to pick it up even more easily.

“Riles here makes the best cheesecake on the west coast. She’s going to get a chance to open up a restaurant and sell it to everyone one of these days.” My mother said affectionately, making the woman laugh and shake her head.

“You know my little boy heard you call him Riles the last time you came by. He insists that he gets a nickname like it, but he hasn’t quite worked it out yet. I’m worried that if he figures it out soon enough he’ll never learn how to say his name properly.” She laughed at my mother as I turned the bowl of cheesecake mix over into the large casserole my mother had pulled out of the oven that held the crumbly bottom of what would be the bars.

Her fingers slid through my hair as he took a pastry spatula to get the rest out of the bowl and smooth it out. “You’re such a good boy. If my son was a little older, I’d bring him so you two could play.”

I gave the woman a grin and shrugged. “I’m responsible. I could watch out for him.” I offered, making my mother grin as she worked the juice out of what was no less than two pomegranates of seeds.

“I might have to bring him out here some time. I’m sure he’d love you. But you’d have to be careful. He’s a lot more fragile than you are.”

“Riley, I hardly think he’s as fragile as you make him out to be.” My mother teased her friend. She took the crimson red liquid and spread it over the creamy topping, blending and thinning out to become a bright red.

The same red flopped into my lap, causing me to jerk upright from where I had fallen into my thoughts. Stiles had taken the cheesecake-topped brownie that I’d been poking at before something brought on that old memory and before I returned from my reverie long enough to consider why that particular memory came back to me at that time, it was replaced with a present that was easily eighteen square inches wrapped in bright red wrapping paper tied with a white ribbon.

I glared up at Stiles, who now donned a santa hat. He stared down at me with a grin that was even goofier than usual – if that was even possible. Despite the other presents in his hands, everyone seemed to be hanging on edge, staring at me as though I needed to give them permission to open their presents by opening my own. Was this really what it meant to be the alpha? Dying slowly in a haze of nerve gas while I found myself in control of the most useless and annoying teenage army that had ever existed?  
I opened the present just to get their attention off of me. It didn’t work. Instead, I found six pairs of young, eager eyes staring at an ornately carved wooden box. I let out an annoyed grunt at the amount of work that I was having to put into getting them away from me. I considered briefly flashing my eyes at them or using my best alpha voice, but that would probably end up worse rather than better. Instead, my fingers found the latch that held the box closed and unfastened it.

The box held an assortment of bullets, the metal and the slots that held them adorned with descriptions of the bullet’s contents. I marveled at the bullets briefly, my mind running through the people in the room. Clearly, only two would have been smart enough to get their hands on this, and both were probably behind the gift in truth.  
Stiles received the brunt of my anger. His excited exclamation at how awesome the gift was – which, had I not been angry, should have been a sign that he was relatively innocent – called my attention to him. In an instant I was on my feet, looming over the young teenager. A hand gripped Stiles’ neck, my thumb pressing into the top of his throat. It was a trick that I would have to save for later when he was talking too much because it seemed to work when it came to shutting him up. But maybe that was just the surprise of the assault.

“You think this is funny?” I growled, waving a bullet in his face. The bullet was silvery in color; the bottom of the casing was inscribed with hydrargyrum in a fine script while the bullet itself was circled with a horned female symbol, the representation of mercury since time immemorial. I was so tempted to throw something about how Stiles’ mother died in his face, ready to point out that my family had lived in constant fear of the very things that I had just been given as a ‘gift’ their entire lives.

Stiles stared at me wide-eyed, speechless for once. I smelled nothing but fear rolling off of his body, a finding supported by the trembling heartbeat pounding in my ears and against the thumb that was pressing into his throat. Allison’s hand was on my wrist, pulling me off of Stiles. With a growl, my attention turned to her but not without Scott putting himself between us. It was funny how effective Scott thought he could really be alone against an enraged alpha. I’d have to show him just how wrong he was some time. I beat him when I was just a beta and it would be even simpler now.

“Derek. It was my fault. Stiles just thought it seemed like a good idea. He had no idea what exactly it would be like.” Allison said unsurely, trying to step out from behind Scott only to have him move with her. She ended up wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning over him to look at me. “I thought it might be a good idea.”

“A good idea?” I questioned, rage beyond rage seeping into my voice. “You thought it was a good idea to give me the weapons your family used against me and mine?” I couldn’t control the snarl that tore through my throat, the wolf was awake and crying out for release.

Stiles was back again, regaining his courage and pulling me back a step. “The bullet kind of saved your life, remember? She’s trying to make sure you won’t almost die again. Calm down and stop being such a damn sour wolf.” He finished his little speech by shoving me back down into my seat.

After the sharp growl directed at Stiles for the push, I looked down at the bullet in my hands. Mercury had fallen out of the Hunter’s favor a long time ago when they realized that making the bullets was doing more harm to them than they were doing to our kind with the poisoned weaponry, if I remembered that history lesson properly. This must have been a relic, something that a Hunter would probably treasure as a triumph against the werewolves. Had she painstakingly stolen this from her father’s grasp? I hadn’t considered Stiles’ point. It was only because Scott stole the bullet from Kate that I survived at all. With this arsenal of ammunition, anything I got hit with would be available to me. While I stared in awe at the newfound implication of Allison’s gift, Stiles went back to passing out the gifts.

Stiles got a copy of the Hoosiers DVD, Jackson got a mini-Porsche replica of his Porsche, Lydia got a bottle of perfume that she absolutely loved and thought the manufacturer had stopped making completely, Danny got a gift certificate for a free day at the local spa for two, and Scott got a gift card that would easily cover a nice dinner for his and Allison’s next date. All that was left were my gifts now. Stiles seemed to stall on them, looking at me curiously.

“Derek? You only had to get something for Allison.” He commented, sitting down next to Allison as they both opened their gifts. Stiles’ was bigger than Allison’s, but in my opinion no better or worse.

Allison delicately opened her gift first, a small, dark box that held a collapsible stun baton almost identical to the one that her aunt had used against me. She stared at it almost fearfully before looking at me. I shrugged. If Scott lost control, or if the Alpha really did take hold of me, then it would be a good thing to have on hand. Better than the taser she carried now that would do little to stop a werewolf in comparison. The taser had a limited range, a very finite time limit, and took time to reload if she did miss for some reason. While the even more limited range of the baton may have been a problem, it was a good solution to the other two problems. If, for some reason, she became cornered, the baton would prove a better ally.

She smiled at me before everyone’s attention was drawn to Stiles as he let out an excited squeal. An award-winning smile curled his lips as he looked over his gift before he realized the sheer femininity of the sound he made. He cleared his throat loudly to make it seem like it was just a fluke that his vocal cords could possibly have made a sound like that, smiling still. He squared his shoulders and puffed out his chest to make himself seem masculine again, speaking in a deeper voice than normal. “This present kicks Jackson’s piece of crap movie in the ASS!” He announced excitedly.

I had given him a first edition collection of werewolf lore – written by a werewolf so that he could get more of out stories rather than anything he could find on the internet. The book had been considered a masterpiece in the family though I had never seen anyone open it. There was never any need, we knew that the stories Uncle Peter gave us were shared, honed, and refined from texts found in that compendium. It had miraculously survived the fire with only minor singe marks along the edges of the binding.

Jackson glared at Stiles, snatching his movie back from him. “How did you even know I gave this to you?”

Stiles rolled his eyes at the blond jock. “Number one, genius, I’m the one that arranged this whole thing. Number two, who in their right mind would give someone a stupid movie like that for Christmas except someone who didn’t have anything else to think about other than sports?” 

Jackson growled in irritation, throwing the DVD towards Stiles’ face. In the most graceful action I had ever seen Stiles execute, he successfully swatted the flying movie like it was a gnat without looking up from the book he was studying intently.

“Hey,” Stiles said, looking up at me with a grin, “that one you were telling me is in here.” Lydia strangely seemed to be the only one who pricked with interest at the fact that I had given Stiles a bedtime story. I was glad for the fact that the only person that seemed to take notice was the same person that wasn't going to point out her keen awareness to the group, though she did eye both of us curiously for a little while.

I thought Jackson’s head was going to explode. He didn’t like to be ignored so easily. I don’t think I’d ever seen someone so incredibly jealous of a book.

After everyone had enjoyed their gifts and discovered who had given it to them (it seemed that the gift exchange between Allison and myself was carefully orchestrated so that some understanding could be forged between us – and it was impressive how well Stiles’ plan had worked), Stiles stayed curled up against the arm of the couch with his nose buried in the book I had given him. The others decided to test out the stun rod I’d given Allison. Scott volunteered to be the guinea pig since she had already shot him with taser darts once.

“How much worse could it really be?” He remarked mistakenly. The taser to a werewolf was more of an inconvenience, a thorn in the side that would drop us temporarily at best. The stun baton would put us down and make us want to stay down until the bearer of that hellish weapon finally left us alone.

“Go to the bathroom first.” I advised, my voice dead serious despite the amused looks I got from everyone except Stiles who was too absorbed in the book to notice.

With that said, I decided that there was no reason to stick around to witness this idiocy firsthand. My wolf was still on edge, and I was worried about what might happen if I was standing there watching a little human, a known daughter of a Hunter, hurting my beta. While I did respect the girl for going out of her way for me first to get me here and again to get a collection of the poisons that could be used against me so that I would be able to have a cure on hand for them, it would mean little if my wolf thought that she was trying to kill Scott, the last werewolf of my pack. It would make my wolf go crazy, and there was the possibility that it could overpower the steel bars of my will that kept it in check. If the wolf had its way, the assailant would be reduced to a pile of entrails and a puddle of blood. It didn’t matter what I consciously recognized as teenage stupidity and bravado.

I stood, the motion pulling Stiles out from the pages of the ancient book.

“You’re leaving?” He asked, his brown eyes failing to hide the disappointment. 

Did he think I was going to pull another book out of my pocket for him as soon as he finished that one? The question drew the attention of the rest of the group, except for Scott who had listened to my recommendation so that he wouldn’t risk soiling himself in front of his girlfriend and his rival.

I gave a nod and almost immediately I was enveloped in the slender arms of Scott’s girlfriend. “I’m glad you came. And thanks for the present. I promise I won’t use it against you or anything.” She promised playfully, grinning up at me.

I scowled down at her and shook my head. “You might not have a choice.”

My answer seemed to set everyone but Stiles ill at ease and Allison released her hold on me. I gave a nod to the group before I headed out the door. Stiles was on my heels, apparently not eager to speak to me until we were out of earshot of everyone including Scott. He finally stopped at the rear of my car, standing with an awkward patience as I put Allison’s gift into my passenger seat. He cleared his throat and started fidgeting like he thought I was going to forget he was there and just drive away. I turned to him and waited for him to speak. It took a little while, almost as though he were hoping I’d break the ice for him. That was strange. In the time that I’d known Stiles, I had only ever had to start the conversation once, and then probably only because we were at his mother’s funeral. I watched as the book began to turn in his hands, making a total of fifteen revolutions before he pieced together a sentence.

“Thanks for the book.” He said at last, holding it up as though I would have no idea what he was talking about. “It’s really interesting. Did you read it?”

I shook my head no and he continued on. “Well, it was like the author just put together all the stories in their original form. It’s going to take me a little while to work out. They’re in a bunch of different languages, German, French, Middle English. It’s crazy to think that the author had to be able to understand the stories in order to choose them to include but didn’t want to change the traditional wording. I hope whatever I translation I work out holds true to whatever she was trying to preserve.”

“She?” I asked with a raised brow.

Stiles nodded, going into a discourse about how he could tell from the author’s notes and the stories in English that she included from her own sources that the author was definitely a female. The text itself was a compilation of works as Stiles had said and no names were supplied for authorship or sources of any of the stories in order to protect their identities from the Hunters.

“Yeah, so, the author was definitely a woman.” He said to conclude his argument before he blurted out the rest as though it were a post hoc addendum to his argument. “You’re coming to Christmas at my house. Dad knows, it was his idea, actually. When he heard you were going to be here he said that I needed to invite you so that you wouldn’t have to be alone for the holidays and that it would be a start to apologizing for the fact that Scott and I threw you in jail and blamed you for a bunch of murders you didn’t commit and that as painful as it must have been to hurt the last member of your family, you did it to protect everyone from him and any man that was willing to do something like that had no business being alone ever so you have to come or Dad’s going to think I didn’t invite you and we’ll just end up riding to your place in the squad car anyway.”

For a little guy, Stiles could fit a lot of air into his lungs. I looked at him with a furrowed brow, wondering why it mattered so much to either of them that I was going to be alone for the holidays. Yes, my family had taken care of his after his wife died, but he had taken care of us after the fire. Debt repaid. It wasn’t like I took out my uncle to protect Stiles or save the town, those were only secondary results of an action driven by much more selfish reasons. Stiles’ tongue darted out of his mouth, wetting his bottom lip in eager anticipation of my answer.

“Fine.” I answered with a sigh that went completely unnoticed in Stiles’ wild flailing.

“Yes! Yes. Yes…” He slowly toned his reaction down as he realized that it was too much. “Yeah… so, breakfast is at eight sharp. I’m starting to cook at seven-thirty so if you’re late, Dad and I will probably eat your share. We open our gifts around eight-thirty and have a Christmas movie marathon until lunch. After lunch, Scott and his mom are coming so we can get started on dinner. We’ll eat that around six and then trade our gifts with them and then we continue the marathon until everyone’s recovered from their food coma and is ready to get to bed.”

Sometimes, Stiles made me want to punch him. I would have to find four presents, two for people I barely knew, in the week before Christmas. Sounded great.

He must have seen this on my face, because he smiled and held his hand out. “You don’t have to worry about a present for me. This book is the best thing I’m going to get.” I gave him a confused look as he snapped his fingers at me. “Phone. Duh. Come on. If you’re going to be getting presents for them, I have to make sure you’re not going to give them something you’ve peed on.”

Stiles was grinning at his cleverness until I growled and took a step towards him.

“Stiles. If you make one more dog joke, your father will be getting pieces of you in the mail for Christmas.” I threatened menacingly.

He frowned, holding his hand out still. His voice trembled a little with fear, but he was persistent. “Phone.”

I handed it to him and he put in his number before sending a text to himself so he’d have mine.

“Don’t forget! No later than eight.” He said with a smile. I nodded before getting into my car and driving back home.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm always happy to hear any ideas you guys may have. It could always work out way better than anything I'm planning in my mind, so please give them if something comes to mind.


End file.
